event 003: the potions

[atonementmods]

Characters: All.

When: April 1st - 30th

Where: Various locations.

Warnings: None. Please put any warnings in the comment subject if it progresses that way!

The weather will continue to be Spring-like for the rest of this month, with the occasional storm or shower here and there. Once again, all citizen's will be alerted to go to the center of Penance to see about their punishment for the month of April!

As usual, a tent has been set up with plenty of food and drink set up on tables, with another one off to the corner containing letters addressed to each citizen, along with bottles of potion for each. Each person is invited to take a bottle and either drink it now, slip it to someone else, or saved it for later.

The effects are described as being random. The person who consumes the liquid may see the ghost of someone they've harmed in the past that will follow them around, screaming their sins to all around. It mayse severe, nearly deadly pain. It may take away one of the taker's senses, whether it's sight, hearing, touch, smell, or taste, or even all of them.

If citizens would rather go another route, they are free to make use of the Sin Lounge and deliver torture or pain to each other.

For those eager for more, citizens may take as many punishments as they want during the month!

With their new letter collected, it is time for all to decide their new punishment and face it bravely!

Comments

[vocarrah]

Ah! A tragic misunderstanding and our dear doctor is found not just a sinner, but a mad sinner, yes?

[He laughs at that--He's read something about that, too, it had been one of the things he'd thought back to when he'd asked Jezebel--

--well.]

Perhaps my humble dwelling would please you, then.

[Not that his home is in the best condition for company, currently, but it'll have to do. He's in a good mood and there are much more important things.]

[delilahs_death]

Exactly. I'd much rather not be accused of trying to start a murder spree among the damned, if it's all the same.

[If he's going to be accused of that, he'd much rather it be the ones he actually did, after all.]

Oh, I imagine your home will be more than satisfactory.

[He says it with a small, knowing smile. And don't worry about the cleanliness of your house, Ianchus, he's probably seen so much worse.]

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus leads Jezebel to his home--when he'd claimed it he didn't know it was so close to the Sin Lounge, but now, it seems like a very convenient arrangement.

He opens the door and beckons him in.]

Pardon the mess. I wasn't aware I would be having company.

[Oh, it's not dirty. But there are bottles and glasses on the counters, in different states of fullness. Plates with pits and stems hint as to what he's been eating--somehow, the little store in Penance is always stocked with fruit, though there are no deliveries.

The lair of his bedroom is dominated by the bed, books and sheets scattered on top of it (another glass by the bedside table, another on a plate on the bed). On a chair in the corner is rather expensive-looking, yet functional, armour and a sword, with a white cape draped over the back.]

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel shrugs when Ianchus apologizes, glancing at the house as we wanders in.] It's fine, really.

[Honestly, his own place is probably just as bad, though mostly full of weird chemicals and books more than food.

When they walk into his bedroom, Jezebel glances over Ianchus' bedroom and takes a quick look over it, grinning slightly at the armor and sword decorating the scene. When he turns to look at Ianchus, he seems to be at ease, though he keeps his eyes focused on Ianchus.]

How would you like to do this? I'll admit, I've never done this for someone's enjoyment before.

[vocarrah]

[It's kind of absurd, and he gives a little laugh. It's new for him, too--normally he's being dragged (or dragging someone else) to a bed, grasping, testing with their hands. It's instinctual, versus this which is...

...Well, it's like a doctor conducting a checkup.]

I suppose I should clear the area. If you'd like, you can help yourself to something to drink.

[It's not like there's a shortage of booze here. Ianchus drains the glass on the bed and then sets it on the floor, then pushes the books aside--history books, the majority of them. Biographies of controversial figures and (a novelty for him!) controversial writers. He's a little more appreciative with them, piling them to the side.]

Mmm. Perhaps we should have grabbed rope from the Lounge.

[He knows he's a struggler, after all.]

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel smiles slightly at the laugh. In truth, he's aware of how odd this is, and how clinical his tone is. He was better at this sort of thing when he was lying about who he was, putting on airs.

At Ianchus' offer of a drink, he plucks an errant bottle of whiskey off of a counter outside the bedroom before returning back, leaning against one of the walls and taking a swig, watching as Ianchus clears up.]

Mm, I imagine we can make do without them. I could always use the sheets.

[Said with a slightly wicked smile, before he takes another sip of whiskey.]

[vocarrah]

[For a moment, Ianchus' mind goes to a bolt of cloth draped over the armour,light but strong, with colours shifting as it moves--that would definitely hold him.
But then he banishes the thought from his mind.

He instead pulls the shirt back over his head, tossing it to the side, and sits heavily on the bed, grabbing a sheet and pulling it forward.]

Plenty of those.

[He can't help but run his eyes up and down the other man, noting the attractive profile he cuts, his gaze lingering on the lips on the whiskey bottle, the movement of Jezebel's throat as he swallows.]

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel can see Ianchus looking him over, the way his eyes settle on Jezebel's mouth. He doesn't consider himself particularly vain, but there is still some enjoyment in being admired, especially in a context like this where he felt steady, in control of how things proceeded.

After one final sip off the bottle, he puts it aside so that he can step forward, standing in front of where Ianchus sits on the bed. He palms his neck lightly, thumb running along the line of his windpipe.]

How would you like me to do this?

[vocarrah]

[He knots his fists in the sheets, closing his eyes, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a trembling grin.]

Don't let up.

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel smiles slightly at that, adjusting his hands so that they both wrap around Ianchus' neck in a snug circle. He presses the pads of his thumbs at the base of Ianchus' throat, settling his hands in a sure grip around him.

And then he squeezes, harsh and firm and unforgiving. There is no easing down, just the sharp jabs of pressure into his windpipe, pushing in as far as strength will let him, his arms fixed and solid.]

CW: strangulation

[vocarrah]

[The smile disappears immediately, his eyes widening, and his hands clench. His throat moves under Jezebel's hands, and there's a high, thin sound as the barest minimum of air tries to wheeze itself into his lungs.

His body steels itself, almost pushing back into Jezebel's pressure, his chest hitching uselessly.]

CW: strangulation

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel's hands are unmoving, clamped solidly around his throat and digging in without relenting. Even while Ianchus' body starts to react, his arms and fingers are firm and ruthless, pushing down on him with every tiny wheeze of air that tries to enter.

This is what he likes, the sheer physicality of it. The way it knocks everyone down to their most animalistic, desperate for air, the most basic thing any creature needs. And he likes, too, how even he can bring it about -- he may not by strong or sturdy, but he can still bring a man to desperation with just his hands and a merciless will.]

CW: strangulation

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus manages to drag one hand (heavy, it's so heavy!) out of the sheet to try to grab Jezebel's arm, but he misses. His eyes are starting to roll into his head, his lips flecked with spittle, his lungs and chest and heart and head burning.

But there's another heat there, of course, another base, animal instinct flooding his body.

Failing to grab Jezebel's arm, he grabs desperately at his waist with hands that don't feel much of anything.]

CW: strangulation

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel's arms stay firm even as Ianchus starts to move, blankly trying to grab at him. Even as Ianchus' face swells and eyes go white, Jezebel is still solid, unflinching despite Ianchus' attempts to grip him.

It takes him a second or so to realize what Ianchus wants of him right then, and he wears a slight grin even while his fingers stay pressed into the flesh of his throat.]

Easy now. Time enough for that later.

CW: strangulation

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus doesn't hear it over the blood pounding in his ears, his entire body screaming at him. His fingers weakly scrabble at Jezebel, hooking into his shirt and digging into his skin underneath--it's only partially lust, the rest desperation and, well, the need to be close to someone, as consciousness starts to drift from him.

It's an ugly thing, choking, the way the tongue hangs out of the mouth, the change in the face's colour, the sounds, but to him it's always been like standing at the edge of a cliff, and plunging off. the same thrill, toeing around death, the overstimulation of his body as it cries for air.

His fingers spasm against Jezebel again. Ah, but it's a strange night in Penitence.]

CW: strangulation

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel starts to ease off of his throat, thumbs slowly loosening from his neck. He could keep going, push Ianchus into unconsciousness, let him fade into black and eventually rise back up.

But there's no promise he could do that without accidentally killing him first. Jezebel almost feels glad that he's even thinking that far ahead, instead of pushing on entirely blind.

So he lightens his hold in increments, letting the air flow back in and holding Ianchus' head steady as his hands ease off of him, eventually letting him breathe freely and come back to himself.]

CW: strangulation

[vocarrah]

[If Jezebel asked him, and if he somehow could answer, Ianchus would probably, in the heat of the moment, have told him to keep going. Go all the way.
It's something he's thought about a lot.

His eyelids flutter, and suddenly he's wracked with a coughing fit as his damaged throat spasms. He doubles over, one hand holding onto his throat (the bruises visible under his fingers), his other hand gripping Jezebel's shirt]

CW: strangulation

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel lets him grip at his shirt, letting him do whatever he needs to recover as the air rushes back to him. For the moment, Jezebel holds his shoulders, keeping him from doubling over far enough to topple to the floor. Whenever he's recovered enough to stay upright, he can do more, but for the moment he stays and steadies him just enough that he doesn't crash onto the ground.]

CW: strangulation

[vocarrah]

[Finally the coughing dies down, though he's still shaking. He manages to lift his head, sways a little, and then keeps himself straight. His eyes clear, tears still at the corners, and he wipes his mouth with the hand that isn't holding onto Jezebel. Unlike the other tortures, this is something he's familiar with.

And he's grinning at Jezebel, his heart still pounding. The excitement has come flooding back--has always been there, in fact.]

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel holds him steadily throughout, hands as firm on his shoulders as they were at his throat. He can see the bruises blossoming around his neck, the way the blood begins to flow normally under his skin.

And then Ianchus looks at him, letting him see the excitement in his eyes and he grins, huffing out a small laugh at Ianchus' clear delight.]

Enjoy yourself?

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus opens his mouth to speak, utters a raw croak, coughs, and then tries again.]

That was...quite the rush.

[He closes his eyes, aware of Jezebel's hands on his shoulders, admiring their strength. He hadn't expected that, and he idly wonders whether he would be able to fight his way out of those hands if Jezebel did decide to use them to kill him.]

[delilahs_death]

Good to hear.

[There is a little bit of a thrill from Jezebel's side as well, that he could bring someone so close to the edge and let him come back from it all the same. That he had gotten close enough that he could have killed Ianchus and he didn't, hadn't even really been tempted to. It's such a strange, odd thing, but it's something.]

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus notices the hint of excitement in Jezebel, as well, and his own heart skips a beat. He's never just done this, sat down to be choked by another willing participant--it's usually a sex thing for him, something meant for the heat of the moment. Something about the action on its own, so focused and removed from anything else, so sterile, brings an entirely different kind of thrill.

He stares at Jezebel with bleary eyes, and then (perhaps his own mind is still addled from lack of oxygen, he thinks to himself) reaches up from his shirt--slow enough for the other man to pull away--to run his fingers down a lock of Jez's hair, which is hanging down in front of his eyes.]

[delilahs_death]

[Jezebel doesn't pull away, letting him toy with the hair dangling in front of his face. It's struck him as well that this has all been chaste, in its own strange way. On theme with everything else he'd done that night, choking Ianchus had been almost clinical, even with Ianchus' desires for more clear as he'd been strangled.

His hands go to Ianchus' back, holding him up while letting him continue to touch him if he wishes to.]

[vocarrah]

[Ianchus wraps the lock around his two forefingers and strokes it with a thumb, marvelling at how soft it is, thinking about how nice Jezebel's hands feel against his back.

It's been a long time since he's been close to anyone like this, though this is...certainly a different kind of closeness. He's missed the touch of another person, and he decides to take one more chance, letting go of Jezebel's hair and lightly leaning his forehead against the other man's chest.

He's only there briefly, before he sits up again (swaying a little), not wanting to extend himself or push any boundaries.]